


Threadbare

by Whippoorwill_Grey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Anxiety, Ben Solo - Freeform, Dark, Depression, F/M, Fascination, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hades and Persephone references, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Obsession, POV Kylo Ren, PTSD, Protective Kylo Ren, Protectiveness, Rey Kenobi, Reylo - Freeform, Size Difference, Stalker, book store, eventual smutt, fucked up childhoods, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 13:16:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18522304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whippoorwill_Grey/pseuds/Whippoorwill_Grey
Summary: It is said that the dead know the language of flowers, and he thought she was the loveliest flower of all.-Under the influence of passion, Kylo discovers a new purpose, by which he will go beyond the boundaries of normal morality to possess..





	Threadbare

 

**_" When I first saw you_ **

**_The end was soon_ **

_**To Bethlehem** _

_**it slouched and then** _

_**Must've caught a good look at you** _

_**Give your heart and soul to charity** _

_**'Cause the rest of you, the best of you** _

_**Honey, belongs to me."** _

_**-Hozier, Nfwmb** _

 

 

Could it be that someone could lose themselves entirely? That something so unbelievably vile and painful could create the philosophy of the awareness of one's self, down to the very core of existence, and through that very knowledge; creates the nerve-wrecking need to snip the red string of life that connects us, like an umbilical cord, to the vulgar reality of the present. 

And what would happen if the connection breaks, would one suffocate on one's displacement and quarry? 

 Or would one pass into the realm of dream, which had been the truth all along?

I use to believe it was absurd; even impossible, to become so aware of one's existence that it physically hurt. That with one fraction of a millisecond of a connection; of the absurdity of two strangers making eye contact from across a bookstore, could create such a divine feeling of ethereal otherworldliness. A flicker of emotion, the strange pull of attraction, two stars colliding into a universal dance of combustion.

What would it be then? The merging into a neutron star, or the birth of a vast black hole?

I suppose the moment was a time-lapse, quick intervals of my life theorized by the famous white light before death, the sudden flux of euphoria from a dopamine release. 

Death, rebirth, something else entirely...

To call it  _love at first sight_ was a mere insult, but it was the only word I could think of for the moment. 

Every fiber of my being had been electrocuted, lobotomized, shell-shocked into a new vibrational hum of existence; and I had finally shed the skin of the man I was, and turned into a newborn child seeing it's sole purpose for the first time in it's life.

To be cringy and frank, it was as if seeing an angel. Encased with the soft glow of the dull incandescent lightbulbs, that had somehow turned into the modern day candle. Bringing out the moment in some twisted picturesque sequence.

**Incipit vita nova.**

And maybe it was possible, to be struck down and suddenly relapse into premature death of just being in the presence of the divine. Or, maybe it was just the overthinking- again.

A painting come to life was unfolding before my very eyes. A young girl peering with open curiosity at the row of books, unaware of the anxiety-stricken man trembling in the corner- gaping like a fish out of water.

The book nymph paid no attention to me as she continued collecting the many languages of mortals; she walked on long doe-like legs, swathed in a white tunic and brown slacks, her small feet sealed with old fashioned Mary janes. It was as if watching a maiden walk straight out of a fairy tale book. And on cue the dust motes danced lazily about, catching the evening sunlight tricking in through the window like miniature snowflakes. Everything had the look of a baroque study; stark contrasts of shadows dancing mischievously out of the corner of the eye, the subject bathed in the golden glow as if it were radiating from her and not sheltering in through the window.

Fingertips caressing the spines of the books, causing a thunderous roar from my traitorous heart, that hummed so chaotically, I blamed it for the sudden intrusion of her thoughts. Of course, I was to be caught red handed, struck down like an old oak tree in a thunderstorm by bright eyes and the sudden attention.

All of this had to have taken mere moments, and yet it felt like forever. A brief encounter with the fourth kind, some alien disguised as a woman with round eyes and sun kissed skin. I knew I'd be damned.

But I was never a religious man, anyway.

"Excuse me?" She worked her soft lips into a gentle smile, as if the creature gracing me with her presence were confronting a rabid animal.

Maybe she knew of the moody clerk with relevantly disastrous days of social interaction with rude customers. That being a book slave was both a satisfactory job, and a hellish one.

"Hello."

"Do you happen to have any Dante Alighieri books? It's for studious reasons." She began, her voice velvet with a hint of an English accent.

Without even knowing it she had pierced the bubble that had resolved around me like a thundercloud.

 Long enough for my nerves to prove to make a fool out of me, I sat the books that I had been cradling onto a nearby shelf, and winced as one of them toppled from it's safe place and onto the floor.

"The Divine Comedy?" A rushed question; as I worked towards taking care to pick the book up and set it back into it's place, before setting forward into assessing the situation. As if helping people find books were such a rarity.

"Well- actually," She blinked, openly gaping at the rows of classics to her left before a wide smile etched its way- crafting dimples in its wake- across her face. "yes."

 A slow-motion cinema rolled through my brain, of all of the things I would do just to make her smile again, and I leaned closer; brain whirring. Recollecting her words, she was a quiet thing, but everyone always had the notion to be on quiet terms within the bookstore.

"It should be here somewhere, but the books like to hide sometimes." I murmured, trying to contain the nervous trembling through my nervous system. Subconsciously from years of working with these books, I realized I had plucked the book from it's station without so much as a second thought.

A brief pause.

During this fraction of time, for time is such a fragile matter to assess, I could feel the weight of her gaze. Drinking me in with curiosity I had never known before. Only but a few feet apart, I could feel the energy churn, and the fabrication of reality melting back into place; like a polaroid becoming exposed.

She was not a machine made of flesh and bone, no, she was a capsule ensnaring a bright star which burned to be released.

If I were to catch her, maybe I could free her. Watch her burn and glow with vivacity.

_And a lady called to me, she so beautiful, so blessed, that I begged her to command me._

Oh Dante, you devil. You had known all along- hadn't you?

"You said this was for studious reasons?" I couldn't help but ask, needing to hear her voice once more before she would go and leave me to my silent and miserable life.

Her cheeks were flushed, bringing out the soft dusting of freckles upon her face. How did I get so close? 

"I lied, its merely just for curiosity...you see, I'm taking a classics class this upcoming semester, and..."

"You wanted to get a head start?" 

The blush all but burned bright across her features, as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a shy and nervous tactic. We were so close now; to some it would have appeared to be two strangers conversing over a book, but to others it was two halves of a whole meeting after millions of years apart.

Before she could speak again, I offered a gentle appreciative gesture, overly nerdy to anyone else. "Well, you have certainly come to the right place." My spine straightened, suddenly relishing the overall size difference, and held the book out as an offering. "Though, I must admit...I don't think ive seen you around? Would this happen to be your first time here?" A glance over the shoulder to gesture to the old catacomb of knowledge, all wrapped snug in dusty books, which perched themselves up on their shelves like gargoyles.

 

A breathy chuckle, and she was peering around; my little angel in hiding, looking into my lonely cavern of solitude. It had hit me with how long it had been since someone had given me this amount of attention, or rather noticed me as anything else but the owner of a book store.

"It is actually my first time being here." She glanced sideways, back at the bookshelf of classics. "I just moved here, but its a long story."  _Something I wouldn't tell you._ Played across her features before melting into something soft, gentle, as she pulled the book to her chest to ground her from floating away.

Oh, but I understood. _Smart_ and cunning. Why would she open up to a mere stranger? 

"Oh trust me, I understand, and I will always be here if you ever need anything." Was this all? Could this possibly be the last time I ever see the English girl with mahogany hair and dimpled smiles. 

"Well, actually, I think I'm ready to check out now... this is all I came here for." She had pulled me back into orbit without trying, and she hardly even bothered checking to make sure it was the right book that she needed, or even bothered looking for any other editions. Did this perfect stranger trust me well enough?

Of course, I was but a book slave, so it would be safe to assume that many people trust the knowledge of someone of my status, especially with seeing how fond of the books as I was. But- still.

"Of course, follow me." I turned, and she did, she followed me closely through the labyrinth. Through all of the nine circles of the book realm, and to the very front where the check out desk stood guard. She did not even bother acknowledging the fact that there was someone already awaiting to do the job she had so preciously asked me to do.

It was quick, and with a flurry of emotion, the gangly teenager stepped from his station. Huffing with bright dangerous green eyes, he moved aside without as much as a hello. A small rumble of satisfaction pulsed through me at the knowledge of the fact he had worked here under my ownership long enough to know when to fuck off.

"Alrighty then." A sudden purr, a fake burst of confidence to hide the pulsing nervousness she brought onto me, and to bury the feeling of loss. I took her book, carefully scanning it into the system, all the while trying to think of something to say to break the awkward silence.

It was her that spoke up first.

"Oh, I don't believe that I remember your name?"

Something that had been forgotten within our brief exchange, something that she had wanted from me, and then suddenly everything made sense.

The red thread was no longer tied to the ache of existence, it had all but found itself wrapped up around this angelic creature, who played with it like a small kitten. I smiled for what felt like the first time in months. "Kylo, and you?"

" _Rey."_

 

 

 


End file.
